“You three?” Stable-master Korten smiled at them as they slipped in through the far entrance to the stable. “And you brought friends. I’m not going to need to clear out another stall, am I?”

“Aren’t things getting a little crowded already?” Enrie flashed him a bright smile, hoping he knew that she wasn’t trying to put one over on him. “I mean, with all the guests…”

“We do have a few guests,” he answered slowly, his eyebrows raised. “And their goats are taking up quite a bit of room. The carriage, all the tack, all the frippery… and then,” he lowered his voice and looked both amused and gossipy, “I hear that they’re driving Kelba over at Dornen Tower batty. She’s the head housekeeper, and they’re all on her like she’s a serving girl. But they’re packing up tomorrow. Taking that… “ His paused drew any number of impolite words in the air between them. “…daughter home, since she’s been expelled. Tried to have her clean the stables as punishment, too.” He grinned. “I told ‘em that was for stablehands trained in the art of goat-handling only, and an insult to my trade.”

Enrie grinned back at him. “…and maybe some slightly difficult first year students?” she offered playfully.

“Oh, bah, you three aren’t difficult. You just know what you want and you’re not worried to do what you need to, getting it. I’d say that’s an admirable trait. Like our ancestors.” His smile faded. “Lirnilalie is like that, too, so be careful.”

That was a new name. “Lir…”

“What I’ve heard — and this is all just rumor — is that she was named Ilirnilalie by her parents, and she told them that that was ridiculous. She wouldn’t consider herself to need a vowel unless she was next in line to be Empress.”